


Wishes Have Freckles

by TheMockingCrows



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Depression, M/M, Mentions of Sex, Nudity, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-23
Updated: 2012-10-23
Packaged: 2017-11-16 22:05:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/544335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMockingCrows/pseuds/TheMockingCrows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a suggestion on tumblr. When Dave hits a depressive streak out of the blue, his boyfriend John holds him close and teaches him the best way to make wishes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wishes Have Freckles

When depression hits, usually people react in the same ways. They lay in bed and sleep, they sulk, they lose interest in things they once loved. Sometimes they even get angry. These are normal things, and they happen, and it’s all just different ways to try dealing with things, not even the tip of the iceberg.

When Dave would get upset, however, it was harder to tell. He’d shuffle through projects restlessly, stop mumbling to himself. Lose focus on things, zone out. If it was severe enough, he’d actually rub at his temples and face, trying to keep his eyes from watering. Working so hard to maintain a perfect poker face.

After nearly a year of dating, John could tell the subtle hints Dave gave off, could usually parse their meaning. It took skills to detect when he was outright bullshit angry, or when the cursing and rage stemmed from something else.

It took coercing sometimes to detect what was really wrong. Instead of demanding answers, he’d put it simpler.

‘Is something wrong?’

‘No.’

‘Do you feel strange?’

‘Yes.’

‘Are you feeling sad?’

‘Sort of.’

‘Is it frustration?’

‘No.’

‘Are you just having one of those times nothing feels right so it’s upsetting you?’

‘Yes.’

Through these little word games, John could normally get an answer out of him, allergic to straight and simple answers as he was. It was a funny dance, but it worked out in the end. Could hug and kiss him, hold him gently till it passed, try to distract him with silly things. Could give him space when he needed it as well.

Then, however, there were times where he needed to be smothered. Needed someone practically on top of him to hold him together, remind him that he’s who he is for a reason, and that he should never change. Someone had to keep him from trying to slide comfortably back into second place within his brother’s shadow, let it lord over him. Dirk was always at a loss when that happened, not wanting him to think that way, lacking the skills to make him knock it off.

Beating it out of him in strifes apparently only worsened it.

What he needed was something gentler. Softer. So embarrassingly sentimental that he’d deny it ever happened while simultaneously shouting thank you at the top of his lungs when the relief hit and he felt like himself. Felt worthwhile again.

Everyone has low days, but his sometimes were the lowest.

Listless, not even putting up a fuss, Dave allowed himself to be plucked up from his spot on the couch like a child. Allowed himself to be held, snuggled, then dragged off to their bedroom bridal style. He appreciated the gestures, yes, but.. at times like these, he just really felt like his boyfriend was wasting his time.

He didn’t deserve anything like this. All he did was put together shitty comics, write lyrics and music nobody really liked. Any praise he got was just empty compliments. Dave knew he was capable of doing so much more, of being so much better, that when anyone complimented his work it just felt like a lie.

‘Don’t compliment my garbage, let me show you a fucking masterpiece. ‘

‘That I’ll never be able to make.’

Never one to deny John, he let himself be moved around, clothes coming off. He lowered his arms as soon as the shirt came off, lifted his knees, curling up. Feeling exposed. Wanting to be under the blanket, if John wanted to cuddle. Maybe at least have the lights off so he didn’t have to stare at how pale he was, his chicken legs, his ribs. Didn’t have to look at every godforsaken freckle on his body.

Yet there John went, humming, stroking his hands down his sides to calm him. Gentle, as though he were something precious. When he fingered the speckles at his hips, Dave couldn’t help the hand that lowered to shoo him off it, wanting him away.

“C’mon, man, don’t focus on that ugly shit. Bring those hands up where I can enjoy them.”

The tanned digits stayed firmly in place, blue eyes almost sad as he sighed and shook his head. They brightened then as he lowered his dark head, planting his lips on the freckled patch. “I can’t, I’m making wishes.”

“Wishes. The fuck are you going on about, Eggs, you don’t wish on freckles. My ass is not suddenly a falling star.”

“If people wish on eyelashes, I can wish on freckles!” he triumphantly stated, kissing the patch again. “I wish… that Dave would see how amazing he is to me.”

“John, stop.”

Another kiss, to another small patch of freckles, tender, warm.

“I wish Dave could understand that he takes my breath away whenever he walks into a room.”

“….Dude.”

The kisses continued to rain down over his body, confident, soft. Both hands trailed up and down Dave’s sides to soothe him, keep him still, urging him to listen as he worked.

“I wish Dave knew that seeing him lying beside me in the morning is the main reason I wake up each day, because I know this hasn’t all been a dream.”

“I wish Dave knew how cute his smile was.”

“I wish Dave could see his body sway when he’s working on a good section of music. How he looks like some God of rhythm. I wish he could tell that half the time, he doesn’t even know I’m there because he’s so hypnotized.”

“I wish Dave knew how amazing he was to kiss.”

“I wish Dave knew how proud I am to say he’s my boyfriend.”

“I wish Dave knew how much I love his freckles.”

“I wish Dave could see that I love how different we are, how small he is. That he could understand how much I love his laugh, and when he snorts and denies it.”

The kisses kept coming, mapping every freckle Dave had, even some he wasn’t aware of. The wide, dark hands just kept rolling him around as needed, lifting his arm or leg to reach different places. The only time they stopped was to reach his fingers up to wipe away tears as he continued to make his wishes. 

When every last mark had been kissed, wishes ranging up and down the board, Dave had all but broken down. It was cute in a way, seeing him struggle so hard to keep his face passive and unaffected, bored almost, while water leaked from his eyes and down to his chest. He didn’t finally let it out until John rose and turned off the light, scooping him up when the bed sagged with his extra weight, holding him close.

Nobody had ever outright seen him cry except for John. This guaranteed that nobody else ever would.

Quiet shooshing and hands stroking his back turned to sloppy kisses, wet, un-aimed. They weren’t trying to be perfect, feeling around in the dark for each other, murmuring. Grunting. Whole words weren’t needed now. 

When they eventually made love, it was tender and slow, little more than quick breaths and hushed moans, shuddering movements. After, limbs tangled together, they slept deeply and dreamt of everything they had said and done. 

The following dawn had never looked so clear.

**Author's Note:**

> Original tumblr post- http://themockingcrows.tumblr.com/post/34182047284/wishes-have-freckles


End file.
